


won't you lend a hand to pull me through?

by sparxwrites



Series: Lifelines [9]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Cannibalism, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Nausea, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-09
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 18:30:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2591819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparxwrites/pseuds/sparxwrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wakes up gasping, clawing at thin air and his own throat. Phantom pain rips through him, a bolt of lightning in his jaw and down his neck that radiates through the muscle and meat of his shoulder. He jack-knifes up into a hunch over his own knees, breathing heavily, mind a scramble of confused, awful memories.<br/>“Aww, Strifeykins,” says a voice from somewhere by his side, painfully familiar, too loud and over-enthusiastic and annoying as always. “Not feeling so good?”</p><p>(In which Will doesn't-quite-recover, and Parvis is left to pick up the pieces.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	won't you lend a hand to pull me through?

**Author's Note:**

> as always, title's taken from "lifelines" by imogen heap. blaming this on an anon on my personal blog who wondered if parv would show up in lifelines.

Will wakes up gasping, clawing at thin air and his own throat. Phantom pain rips through him, a bolt of lightning in his jaw and down his neck that radiates through the muscle and meat of his shoulder. He jack-knifes up into a hunch over his own knees, breathing heavily, mind a scramble of confused, _awful_ memories.

“Aww, Strifeykins,” says a voice from somewhere by his side, painfully familiar, too loud and over-enthusiastic and annoying as always. “Not feeling so good?”

“Parvis…?” he manages, forcing his breathing down to something approaching normal. The words claw at his throat on the way out, shredding the already-raw inside of it. Everything’s a little fuzzy, memories blunted around the edges, the confusion of waking up somewhere unexpected dulling his thoughts and reactions. “Where- how did I get here?”

He remembers Kirin’s hand around his neck, a claw jammed into the soft skin under his neck, remembers the word _yes_ twisting its way out of mangled flesh and pain and tears, and-

Sticking his head over the bed, he breathes slowly and deeply for several long seconds until the urge to vomit hard enough to bring up internal organs passes. He feels his bones snap and fracture under inhuman pressure at the base of his neck, feels his last dying rattle in his chest, feels the darkness settle through his mind – and the knowledge that the memory of his own death will linger in his mind _forever_ is very nearly enough to make him throw up anyway.

“Ridge dropped you off,” says Parvis, frowning a little at Strife’s obvious unwellness. “Don’t you remember? You were very silly and got very, very ill, Will. You’re lucky Ridge was around to help you, he found you all in a state in that big castle of yours.”

He smiles at Will, runs a gentle hand through his hair that Will doesn’t have the energy to flinch away from. “See. This is why you should just move in with me! Then I can look after you when you overwork yourself.”

“I- no,” Will says, scrubs a frantic hand across his face to try and wipe off the cold sweat, scrub the panicked tears from the corners of his eyes. “No, there was- Kirin was there, oh my _god_ , Kirin- he’s not _human_ , Parvis, he’s-”

His words cut off with another sudden heave of nausea deep in his stomach, and he gags – doubles over and presses a hand to his mouth at the terrifyingly vivid memory of his shoulder being gnawed clean of flesh down to the bone.

“Of course he’s not human,” says Parvis, trying to sound casual and failing thanks to the coiling worry slowly tightening in his chest. “I mean, have you seen those horns? And Martyn says he’s got extra _eyes_ now. Like, that’s properly freaky.” He pauses, relaxing a little when he sees Will’s caught his breath and doesn’t look in immediate danger of vomiting. “Besides, it’s not exactly like _you’re_ actually human, is it?”

Will shakes his head, drags a hand through his hair and exhales slowly. “You don’t understand,” he says, voice raw, and he flinches at the memory of what happened to make it like that. He’s not sure if the ache in his throat is from the screaming, or from the chunks that had been torn out of it. “He’s something _bigger_ , he’s- I don’t-” He tries to collect himself a little, fails. “He’s not mortal, Parvis.”

A flicker of discomfort runs across Parvis’ face, disappears as soon as it had arrived. “I mean,” he says, a little slower than normal. “Mortal’s subjective. Ridge isn’t really mortal, either, is he? I mean, Rythian’s got some freaky ender thing going on so I’m not exactly sure _he’s_ human either, and- well, between all the magic and potions and science and things that everyone else has-”

 “You don’t understand,” says Will, hates how lost and small his voice sounds – but the world feels strange around him, an edge of unreality, like this is all a delusion and he’s still back there being consumed bite by merciless bite. “He- he tried to _eat_ me.”

Parvis laughs, but the sound’s a little off. Not that Will notices through his panic, terror snapping far too close at his heels. “Kirin wouldn’t do that,” says Parvis, his voice full of wavering uncertainty. “He’s been so helpful to me – to _everyone_. He wouldn’t do that.”

“He- but he _did_.” Reaching up a hand to touch at his shoulder, Will finds smooth skin under his customary silk shirt. He runs fingers up his neck and along the line of his jaw, feels faint stubble under his fingertips. All of it perfect, unmarked, no wounds or scars or even points of pain.

It’s a little terrifying, the conflict between what’s under his fingers and what his body _knows_. What his memory knows.

The memory of his ear coming off, a tearing crunch of cartilage and flesh against jagged teeth, feels white-hot behind his eyeballs. He drags in a sharp breath, and another, the air not quite making it down to his lungs through a throat that is now whole but still feels ruined. Phantom fingers close around his throat, squeeze, claws against the soft vulnerability of it.

He gags again, harder, intestines trying to crawl up through his throat to wrap around his lungs.

Unable to stand it, he slips off the bed and stumbles to his feet, sprints for the nearest bathroom on shaking legs before he vomits all over the floor.

Parvis watched until Will’s out of sight down the corridor, hears faint retching sounds coming from what he hopes is the bathroom a few moments later, and sighs. “You owe me,” he says, turns around and is entirely unsurprised to find Ridge there, standing a foot or so off the ground. “You owe me _big time_ for this.”

“I’m aware,” says Ridge. His arms are crossed, a faint frown on his face as he looks at the empty space where Will had been sitting.

“You didn’t say anything about him freaking out when he woke up!” Parvis continues, indignant and a little angry. “And- and what does he mean about Kirin trying to eat him?” There’s a flash of uncertainty, something confused and faintly vulnerable there. “Kirin wouldn’t do that, right? He’s- he’s been so _helpful_ – he doesn’t _actually_ eat people, does he?”

Ridge smiles, smooth and slow and not in the slightest bit friendly. “Will’s a little confused right now,” he says, pats Parvis on the shoulder in a manner that’s somewhere between condescending and comforting. “I wouldn’t listen to anything much he says, if I were you.”

The retching from down the hall turns to choking and then wheezing, throttled gasps, and Parvis makes an anxious noise. “Right. Right,” he says, nods distractedly. “I- I should go. Will- Strifeykins probably needs me.”

“Of _course_ ,” says Ridge, cheerfully, nods towards the door. “Off you go, run and help your little friend. Oh, and Parvis?” He pauses, waits for Parvis to turn around, and then smiles a smile full of teeth – not even bothering to attempt friendliness this time. “Remember what I said about not listening to anything he says? The same goes for repeating it, too.”


End file.
